Remembering Granny

This is a long post. Feel free to not read it or to only skim it. Its not here for you so much as its here for me to process:

My Granny (dad's mom) passed away a couple weeks ago. As far as death goes, it was one of the "better" kinds. She had lung cancer and Doctor's had been guessing for awhile about how long she might have left. On a Friday, she went into the hospital and found out she was leaking air into her abdomen. It could be cured with surgery, and while some rehab and other associated inconveniences would result, she'd get to live longer. Granny declined. She was tired. She was ready. I don't think any of the family questioned her decision. The good thing about dying in this way was that we all got to spend a couple of days with her. She still had her mind and we all got to visit and say goodbye (or rather, see you later). When she declined surgery, the doctor said she's have 24-72 hours. She hung around for nearly 5 days.

One of the great things about visitation and funerals is the way they bring family and friends together. I got to spend a few days with family I don't normally see and a couple of people came to the funeral home that I hadn't seen in over 10 years. I got to hear some stories about Granny I'd never heard. She'd really lived quite a life. Married, divorced, and remarried in a time when that wasn't normal. She and my grandpa created a family out of strangers and did it so well that it was only very recently that I learned that some of the relatives weren't really related (by blood that is). Granny had traveled, worked on a farm, shot guns, collected things, made things, learned to use computers, lived without indoor plumbing, and was way ahead of the fashion trends. Her choice to die was a choice to engage in yet another adventure...

After crying a few times in the hospital I did pretty well for the next few days. The real mourning didn't come for me until the actual funeral service started. I cried a lot, but then Granny had chosen a great song for her service. It was an older tune and without the lyrics it sounded like something from a disney cartoon. It was peppy and didn't fit the mood at all. Most people in the room were laughing through their tears. I want that at my funeral.

I did fine after the service but the next hard part I wasn't expecting. A few days after the funeral, my Dad took my sister and I to Granny's house to pick out something to have as a memento. Walking into the house was like walking onto sacred ground. There was all here stuff...the house was full of Granny's many collectibles...and yet it was empty. Dad instructed us to look around and pick something out, but my sister and I did the only thing that we could at that time...we sat in the chairs in the living room and cried with each other. For me, this was the first time it felt like Granny was gone.

What do you take to remember someone? A lifetime of possessions and you can pick out one or two that reminds you of her? My sister and I mulled around and looked at her stuff. It was like visiting her. It was hard. When it became apparent that our mission was futile, I settled on a few small, silly things.

I only visited with Granny every once in awhile, so most of my life isn't affected by her passing. I could probably go a few months without ever noticing that she was gone...and yet I'm not sure more than a day has passed since her death that I haven't been aware that she's not here. I miss her. We still had a lot to talk about. She was going to teach me to make pull candy.